


A Night to Remember

by gerbilfluff



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Anal Sex, Drunken Shenanigans, M/M, Masturbation, Rimming, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 13:27:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3174896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gerbilfluff/pseuds/gerbilfluff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Maybe I struck out at the bars again," said Stanley. "Maybe I'm super horny. And just drunk enough t'be feelin' generous to someone I know's a fan."</p><p>Fiddleford didn't pull away, but he couldn't look Stan in the eyes. "Stanley, I CAN'T."</p><p>"Can't, or shouldn't?" Stan chuckled, sending puffs of booze breath over Fiddleford's ear. "I can deal with 'shouldn't'."</p><p>[I don't believe it-- I wrote this thing back in November, and nobody else here's posted Mystery Trio porn yet?! Well, let's just fix that, shall we?]</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night to Remember

**Author's Note:**

> Suit: yup. Glasses: check. Nervous-looking, check... and he's a smartypants? Sorry, Fiddleford, looks like you got a Bingo on my Want to Bang card. My hands are tied on this one.
> 
> Quick porn for porn’s sake. Dongs, asses, rimming, buttsex, and spoilers for Society of the Blind Eye / hopefulness for the Mystery Trio Theory all lie ahead. (Surprisingly free of kink stuff, for something I've written! What can I say? Sometimes you just need a fidgety scientist gettin’ bent over a desk.) If you're uncomfortable with any of these elements, or under the legal age to read them where you're at, I'd suggest looking elsewhere. Big ol' rest of the Internet out there. I'm sure you'll find something fun.
> 
> COMMON SENSE NOTE: Stan's lousy at proper butt-romancing in this fic. It should go without saying, but just in case: in real life, use a condom and lots of lube, go in SLOW (yup, even slower than that! Especially if you're new at it!), and for cryin' out loud, don't trust yourself to know your limits while you're drunk. Don't be a Stanley, folks.
> 
> I don't own Gravity Falls. No profit is being made from this fic. okay yadda yadda LET'S GO, PORN TIME

A Night to Remember

by Apricot the Gerbil

 

"Another night in the lab again, doc?"

  
Fiddleford rolled his eyes, barely looking up from the circuit board he was doing some last-minute assembly work on. He'd heard the door creak, heard footfalls coming down the steps... but thanks to the smell of Jack Daniels, he could tell which of the Pines brothers it was before the fellow had opened his mouth. "Another night _drunk_ in the lab, Stanley?" he chided gently, reaching for a bit of copper wire.

  
Stan grabbed his arm, leaving his hand clutching at air. "Not drunk enough to lose the magic. BAM!" Stanley said, pushing the older man's palm against... something hard, and _it's at crotch level, isn't it_ raced through Fiddleford's head as he pulled away on instinct.

  
_"Honestly,_ Stan," he muttered, glancing at the bulge tenting Stan's blue jeans, then darting his gaze elsewhere. Anywhere.

  
He tugged his hand again, but Stanley wasn't letting him budge.

  
"Drop the act, smart guy. I know you wanna look." Stan's voice was a gravely purr. "Y'think I don't see you starin' every chance you get, when the three of us're down here?"

  
Fiddleford could feel his face grow warmer. He looked around the room for anyone else there. "I... I don't know what you're..." He gulped, as Stan began rolling his hand back and forth over the length of it. Nudging its pulse to beat all the more needily under his fingers.

  
"Maybe I struck out at the bars again," said Stanley. "Maybe I'm _super_ horny. And just drunk enough t'be feelin' generous to someone I know's a fan."

  
Fiddleford didn't pull away, but he couldn't look Stan in the eyes. "Stanley, I _can't."_

  
"Can't, or shouldn't?" Stan chuckled, sending puffs of booze breath over Fiddleford's ear. "I can deal with 'shouldn't'."

  
...Oh no he'd started rubbing back, hadn't he. It was getting difficult to breathe. "I'm a married man... Got a child on the way, I--"

  
"Hey, now. Everyone makes mistakes," Stan consoled him. Fiddleford whimpered as Stan's massive _(used to be a boxer)_ hands _(always wondered how strong he could be)_ closed in to pet the hard-on now trapped and pounding in his own trousers. "And who says anybody's gotta know?" He gave the tip a squeeze through the fabric that made Fiddleford's eyes roll back in his head through his gasp.

  
Stan gave him another chuckle, letting go of the older man's crotch to reach for his own belt. "Never woulda pegged you for a whimpery kinda guy." A slap and a jangle; his belt was open. His voice lowered as he bent in close over Fiddleford's shoulder, seeming to feed on the shivers he was getting. "Wonder what kind of noises ya make when you're gettin' _fucked."_

  
Fiddleford was outright panting in his chair, squinting at the circuitry before him. He could barely recall what he'd been working on.

  
Stan spun the chair, straddling the scientist in his seat with both arms. "What'll it--" He burped under his breath. "What's it gonna be? You're awful quiet for someone breathin' that hard."

  
"I'd... like." Fiddleford's words faltered at the sight of the other man in his white muscle shirt staring him down. He cleared his throat. "To find out, too. What I... sound like."

  
Stanley gave him a lopsided smirk, easing the zipper to his fly down over his bulge. "Then you better get those fancy pants a' yers off."

  
It took Fiddleford a moment to tear his eyes from the sight of the younger man releasing himself from his briefs. When he stood up and staggered to pry his belt loose, Stan was already at his back. "Want you right over this desk," Fiddleford heard. A meaty slab of a hand cupped his ass beneath his blazer. "Right where you do all your sciencey stuff. So you'll think of this ev'ry night yer down here."

  
Fiddleford struggled to get pantlegs over shoes, only slipping one side free before he felt a stiff, eager weight poking against the tail of his suit jacket. "Leave 'em on," Stan said, with the edge of a growl in his voice that had Fiddleford dropping his pantleg and underwear to pool at one ankle.

  
"Sweet baby Moses. Wouldja look at that _ass,"_ Stan marveled, squishing a pillowy pale cheek in either hand before bending Fiddleford over an uncluttered part of the desk face-first, spreading them apart to the chilled basement air. "S'what you get for sitting all day, nerd. Hey, wanna see something an ex-girlfriend taught me?"

  
Without waiting for an answer, he bent to one knee and buried his lips and tongue into the open cleft, to a yelp from Fiddleford that grew into a murmuring croon as Stan lapped on.

  
"Feel good?" Stan paused to ask.

  
"It feels... _Very_ strange, and please keep doing it!" Fiddleford said, his voice brittle.

  
Stanley obliged, tongue swishing all the more forcefully as he noticed Fiddleford's small hand sneaking between his legs. Heard the huffing coming from beneath him in jerky rhythm, as the scientist's already shaky legs quaked harder.

  
"Heh. You _like_ this. Knew you were a weirdo," Stan said between laps. "You go ahead 'n do what you need to." He bent nearer for a strong suck against the sphincter. And grinned, feeling Fiddleford's whole body twitch back.

  
He smoothed his hand against the man's bare ass in a tight circle, suckling at the ringpiece again, then giving the flesh a spank. He heard a hitch in the other man's breathing, hips bucking into the desk-- another spank, and Fiddleford was crying out, dangling off, then peaking in an "OH _YES"_ to the frantic pumps of his fist.

  
After a few more lingering swirls, leaving Fiddleford to pant against the desk and clutch at the wetness in his hand, Stan gave his ass one last clap and backed away. "Don't fall asleep now. That'll make things awkward," he said, fapping the hard-on sagging out from his open jeans back to full mast.

  
"You ever... taken it in the keister before?" he slurred to the other man. He brought his pinky finger to his mouth, sucking on it. "Not sayin' nothin'. Just. Maybe a warm-up's good."

  
"N-never actually tried anything," came Fiddleford's far-off-sounding reply, with a gasp and an _"Oh my word...!"_ as Stan's pinky plunged in.

  
"Yeah...?" Stan eased in another finger, slower this time. Scissoring them both deeper, then away, and in, listening to Fiddleford's conflicted-sounding moans. "I'm not hearin' a 'no'."

  
Fiddleford twisted back onto his fingers, grimacing. "Nngh... Don't stop, it's just very-- new?"

  
"Feels weird, don't it? Least you're nice 'n empty," Stan remarked. "Good. I can fix that."

  
One more stab inside, and the fingers were gone, with a last gob of saliva spat _mostly_ on-target to grease the way. Fiddleford braced himself for the unknown, hearing Stanley's rumble overhead. "Three two one, go. Three... Two..."

  
A deep breath...

  
_"GO!!"_

  
Fiddleford gave a choked _"AAA-_ hahh...!!", more surprised than pained. That came right afterwards, as Stan's full weight slammed him against the desk.

  
"HAHAHA you shoulda seen yer _face!"_ Stan cackled, rearing back. "That's right I'm a _jerk."_

  
Fiddleford opened his mouth, but no reply came, save for the cry falling out as Stan railed into him again.

  
_"Man_ you're tight... M'not gonna last long in here," he heard Stanley mumble. Another thrust. "How you doin'?"

  
"I-- I didn't know-- it'd hurt this much!" Fiddleford managed, burrowing his head against his sleeve.

  
The slamming stopped. "So you want me to slow down."

  
Fiddleford bit down on the fabric and growled back, "No...!"

  
This got a "heh." from above him. It was the last thing he heard Stan say through the feeling of being filled up, used by that gorgeous cock, so rough-- he felt a hand wrap around his stomach as the pumping came quicker, his glasses shaking askew on his face, god there was still a puddle of cum dripping warm down his hand-- Stan letting go to grab at Fiddleford's reedy hips through the blazer, clamping hard, squeaking _(squeaking? Really?)_ as hot runny wetness flooded Fiddleford's ass. Then, a crushing weight, as Stanley flopped on top of him, spent and wheezing.

  
_"Oh_ yeah! Stan's still got the touch," Stanley congratulated himself. "Thanks for the cherry pop, nerd. High five."

  
Fiddleford's hands stayed where they were, quivering slightly.

  
"Right. That's probably gonna hurt for a while. Like, a LOT. I wouldn't try sittin' down any more tonight, if I were you," Stan remarked, pulling away to tuck himself back into his briefs. "Heh. Like they say. Y'always remember your first time. 'Specially if you work in a chair."

  
He looked off towards the ceiling, a smirk growing on his face. "Just think when Stanford sees you limping around tomorrow. Haha! He won't have any idea."

  
Neither of them noticed the single eye blinking at them from the triangle upon the far wall.

  
\------

  
Just as Stan said, that night was an experience Fiddleford would never forget.

  
For about three weeks.


End file.
